


scars we choose

by Poe



Series: Drabbles [4]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Can fit nicely into canon wherever you'd like, Choices, Confessions of love in the rain, Discussion of healed scars, Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, I think it's all going to be okay, Jaskier does some talking, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Love Confessions, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Roach as best supporting actress, Scars, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:41:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25634470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poe/pseuds/Poe
Summary: Nobody had ever mentioned to Jaskier how damn itchy healed scars could be. It had been the work of an instant, and he’d long since come to terms with how the pale red slash cut across his chest, still slightly puffy and tight, but gods, he could deal with all that if it didn’t itch so.or: Jaskier got hurt, Geralt is Geralt-y about it.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Drabbles [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/630734
Comments: 20
Kudos: 188





	scars we choose

**Author's Note:**

> Content warnings for some discussion of healed scars, in this case inflicted by a monster.

Nobody had ever mentioned to Jaskier how damn _itchy_ healed scars could be. It had been the work of an instant, and he’d long since come to terms with how the pale red slash cut across his chest, still slightly puffy and tight, but gods, he could deal with all that if it didn’t itch so.

It seemed worse when it was about to rain, and so Jaskier strode forwards now, the steady beat of Roach’s hooves hitting the ground behind him, Geralt silent as usual, and there was the heat of a storm about to fall, he could almost taste it, and damn if the dry ground didn’t need it, the plants wilting at the sides of the road.

He rubbed the heel of his hand at his chest through his doublet, briefly finding relief, still finding it strange how some of the skin was hyper-sensitive, and some completely numb. Geralt had done a good job stitching the wound, even as Jaskier had writhed in pain and cried out to the gods and if Geralt’s hands had shook slightly on first piercing Jaskier’s skin with the needle and thread, Jaskier had been too afraid to notice.

They weren’t far from the next town, they wouldn’t get there before the skies opened, but that was okay. Jaskier liked the rain, even if he wasn’t dressed for it. Behind him, Geralt grumbled.

“Rain, huh?” Jaskier called, and turned to walk backwards, facing Geralt. Geralt looked at him, those golden eyes betraying nothing, but his expression slightly pinched all the same. 

“Hmm,” was all Geralt responded with. Jaskier absentmindedly rubbed at his chest again. That damn itch. Geralt’s eyes followed the movement, and his expression turned sour. 

Ah, yes, Geralt must feel the same way. He was covered in scars after all. With his enhanced senses, gods, they must drive him half mad. Jaskier felt an enormous wave of empathy for his friend. 

“Annoying, right? Nobody tells you. Nobody ever said, Jaskier, should you ever end up on the wrong end of a griffin’s claw, please be aware that it’ll drive you crazy half the time. Now, I don’t complain much - “ normally this would garner a scoff from the witcher, but instead Geralt just seemed - almost upset? Jaskier continued, if only to wipe that awful expression off of Geralt’s face.

“Now, I don’t complain much. I’m an extraordinarily humble man, after all. I don’t ask for much. And aesthetically, this has worked wonders for me, I mean, the stories I get to tell! So masculine, and you know I don’t go in for all that, nor do I need to, but should the occasion arise then who am I to deny a good tale to tell? Something to pass along, the bard and his brush with death! And the witcher that dragged him back from the edge! A friend to humanity indeed! The coin this ridiculous wound has garnered for both of us! But. Geralt, I must say, it does rather itch, no? I would ask you to tell me it gets better, but I’m rather afraid you’ll tell me otherwise.”

Geralt’s expression was as stormy as the sky above them now. Jaskier ran back through what he’d just said, trying to pinpoint the wrong turn he’d made. There was nothing out of the ordinary, surely. 

Geralt opened his mouth. Shut it. His jaw flexed. 

“Should have protected you. You shouldn’t have been anywhere near that fucking thing.”

Ah. There it was. No matter how many times Jaskier told him that he knew what he was getting into, that he welcomed this life, that this was his choice, a choice he’d made time and time again, and continued to make, Geralt still looked at him like he was slightly mad. Perhaps he was, but not about this.

“I seem to remember you decapitating it pretty handily and then catching me before I could even swoon. Very dramatic, my dear witcher, and now look at me! Fit as the proverbial fiddle. Oh! Do you think I should get a fiddle? I imagine I’d be rather good at it, no? No. Okay, your face is saying no, but that might just be your face, I can’t tell.”

“You could have died, Jaskier.”

“Hmm, perhaps, but unlikely. Don’t really go in for all that. Not my particular style. Dramatics? Certainly. But I could never commit to the whole, here rests Jaskier, the best bard the continent has ever seen. No! I have things to do! Places to see! Songs to sing! Witchers to woo. You are aware you’re being wooed, right? Ah, now, come on, Geralt, are we going to have to have this conversation again?”

Geralt grumbled, and pulled Roach to a halt. A droplet of rain fell on Jaskier’s nose, and he scrunched up his face before wiping it away. 

“Jaskier,” Geralt said, soft, barely there. “You have no idea what you’re doing.”

“Oh well that’s just rude - “

Geralt cut him off.

“Listen. This life. Is not designed for you. You’re too human. Too breakable. Selfish of me to fool myself into thinking otherwise.”

“You’re very bad at being wooed, has anyone told you that?” Jaskier said, and carried on before Geralt could speak again. “No. No. Okay? Mainly and generally no. Human? Perhaps. Breakable? Perhaps. But you? Selfish? I rather think not. You think I’m here because of some selfish whim of yours? You spurn destiny at every turn and yet think you control mine? You think I am some fool, following you around for want of anything better to do?”

“You are a fool,” Geralt pointed out. His face was - Jaskier would say calmer now, through the rain was getting heavier now, and his wet hair ran into his eyes and obscured them. 

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that, but I am going to remember that the next time you go haring off to fight fifty monsters at once or something daft like that - “

“Fifty?” Geralt spluttered.

“Hush! Now. There is not a day that goes by that I regret the path that led me here. This is my _life_ , Geralt. I was never destined for dusty classrooms or anything like that. I chose to approach you that day. I didn’t even know you were a damn witcher. I - I suppose in some ways it couldn’t have gone any other way, huh? You and I. So don’t you dare blame yourself for any harm done, because there is no harm done. I have loved this. I will love this for as long as there is breath in my lungs to sing and speak of it. I have loved you, my dear, for far too long. If anyone here is selfish, let it be me, for never saying that out loud before.”

Geralt looked, well, baffled. Jaskier could practically see the gears turning in that head of his. 

“Come. I’m soaked through. Let’s get to the town and find a room and you can go back to ignoring everything I’ve ever said,” Jaskier paused. “Or maybe, just maybe, you could really consider it. Consider allowing me to love you. Just a thought.”

Jaskier started walking again, still backwards, and after a minute, Geralt spurred Roach back into motion. Jaskier rubbed at his chest again, this time noticing how fast and frantically his heart was beating. 

He had rested his fate in Geralt’s hands. And despite what you might hear about witchers, he knew it would be handled with the utmost care. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was a tumblr prompt but I really liked it, so here we are. Not beta'd, we die like Calanthe. 
> 
> You can find me at witcherling.tumblr.com if you so fancy.
> 
> Comments and kudos are extremely cool of you, no comment is too short or silly, even just a string of emojis can make my day! :)
> 
> Stay safe and take care! <3


End file.
